


Bruises

by lasorcas



Category: Formula 1 RPF, Motorsport RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Bathroom Sex, Bottom Charles, Established Relationship, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Max
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 08:17:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19741765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lasorcas/pseuds/lasorcas
Summary: Charles has always loved the way these bruises hurt. Everytime he'd add pressure on the discoloured skin on his body it'd bring back the memories, the pleasant memories of the time spent with Max.





	Bruises

**Author's Note:**

> hey i'm finally back at writing!! it's been a hectic couple of months here but now that i've officially graduated i can spend my summer doing what i love doing the most: writing filth about my favorite boys. yaaay.
> 
> credits to my girl becky (@untouchableocean) for the idea and huge thanks and hugs and kisses for supporting me along the way!! ily but u already know that xx  
> also thanks to my other girl @bonotje for editing this and helping me when i got stuck somewhere in the middle of this lol. seriously cannot thank both of you enough my ladies <3 <3 <3
> 
> anyway i do hope you enjoy this and if you do PLEASE leave kudos & comments, that always inspires me to keep writing & posting for y'all xx  
> also keep in mind that this was written in like. 3 hours overall so. it's messy and kinda ugly but i still love it

The black denim jacket hits the floor with a quiet thud the second Charles steps inside the apartment, Max dragging him in by clenching fists on his t-shirt, thrusting his mouth into Charles’. Their tongues clash awkwardly, Charles’ lungs suddenly not only empty but burning, just like the rest of his body, embraced by this fire that burns through every single cell in his body, burns it’s way in and out simultaneously somehow. He knows what causes it, he’s been there before; he’s familiar with the feeling, but it’s still overwhelming and all-embracing and he doesn’t think he can actually ever get used to it. How could he ever get used to someone like Max?

Max’ hands are firm and his hold is bruising when he pulls Charles’ t-shirt up and clasps at his chest, short fingernails scratching on the ribcage, eager to rip a whole through it and squeeze Charles’ pounding heart. He’s almost terrified of how much power Max withholds within himself, of the crude passion that fills him; that he consists of. His every touch, every exhale. It’s contagious, Charles can feel it circulating in his very own veins, throwing a thick dark cloth over his conscious mind and sedating it. He lives off what’s left behind, his instincts, the will to grant himself to Max. To Max, who is bruising his lips with his kisses, who digs his nails into his flesh.

Charles fumbles at the zipper on Max’ jeans, finally getting it opened after a few failed attempts and pulling the pants down ever so slightly before Max grabs his wrist with one hand and pushes at his chest with another, making him take an awkward and uncoordinated step back until his lower spine hits the dining table. Max swats one of the chairs away with his foot, ignoring the squeak it makes as it falls on the floor, and thrusts himself into Charles, his open mouth meeting Charles’ sweaty neck with a rough kiss.

“I’ve been waiting for this for days,” he grunts into his skin before rasping his teeth on it. “I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

It makes Charles chuckle as well as sends shivers down his spine. They’ve been together for so long it would’ve been only natural for Max to get used to him, to stop missing him that much when he’s away. But how could Max get used to someone like Charles?

“Well then,” he gasps as Max bites on his neck, the teeth threatening to tear the thick skin apart and get to the arteries, “take what you want.”

“Oh, I will,” Max’ hot breathing hits Charles’ moist lips when he looks up at him, making eye contact. “You know damn well I will.”

They look at each other for a split second before the corners of Max’ mouth go upwards in a quick smile, and another moment before he smashes his mouth into Charles’ once again in the same frenetic kiss, Charles’ palms landing on Max’ cheeks, holding his head in place to make sure he won’t break the kiss, he stays where he is. Max’ cruel hands knead Charles’ thighs through the thick fabric of his jeans, eager to get a better hold of them but it’s all too early, he does understand that. This time he’s got a plan.

“Knees,” he growls into the kiss, forcing Charles to halt. He nibbles at Charles’ unmoving lips, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth; he doesn’t have to see Charles’ face to know what’s portrayed on it, he knows it all too well. “I said,” he runs the tip of his tongue over the gum in Charles’ mouth before biting on his upper lip, “on your knees.”

He moves away ever so slightly, his breathing still leaving moist patches on Charles’ lips and chin; he looks down where two hands clasp at his jeans, clenching fists on the rough fabric, about to pull down but halting as if trying to buy some more time.

“I heard you the first time,” Charles finally voices what’s been tingling on the tip of his tongue for the past few moments. Hot puffs of air hit his face when Max lets out a short laugh, making his own lips twist in a smirk.

“I know,” Max breathes out just a moment before connecting their mouths again, this time in a slow, almost calculated kiss. He pushes his tongue into Charles’ mouth with determination, as if eager to explore even more of it, and Charles welcomes him in, kisses him back, his tongue sliding on Max’ again and again and this doesn’t even feel like a kiss anymore, it’s a straight up battle and the winner gets to put a short leash on the loser tonight. The stakes are high; Charles’ blood is boiling under his skin as he gives in, let’s Max take whatever he wants. This isn’t about him fighting back, no; this is about them taking in every second of this night, their night, certainly not the first and most definitely not the last. They’ll part ways again as soon as tomorrow, with Max leaving in the early morning to make it in time for his next flight, and Charles won’t be there when he returns. His fingers crawl up Max’ chest, hands cupping his face; the kiss grows more and more frenetic with their teeth clashing and their lungs running out of oxygen before Max somehow manages to growl into the kiss.

“Knees, baby, c’mon.”

A muffled “yeah” flies off his lips just a moment before he finally slides onto the floor, settling in on the firm wood. His knees will damn sure be all covered in _bruises_ tomorrow, but he really couldn’t care less right now, with his fingers clasping on the white waistband of Max’ underwear. His eyes shoot up to Max’ face and immediately there’s a smile on his lips again, Max looking down at him with that awed yet dominant expression on his features. A sweaty palm cups his face, Max runs a thumb over his cheekbone before expectedly pushing it into Charles’ wet lips, a short fingernail rasping on the soft flesh.

“Open,” he husks and Charles parts his lips before he can even think about it, not only ready but willing to do what they’re about to do. Max’ touch is feather-light and way too gentle and it almost doesn’t feel like him; those hands are used to clenching fists at the steering wheel, controlling the incredible force that is an F1 car like it’s no more but rather an expensive toy he’s been given for Christmas. Those hands have been in fights, those hands have had blood on them, and now they brush over yet another pretty face but this one is different, this isn’t just another chick he’s found in a nightclub. He admires this certain face like no other thing in his life, and he’s pretty sure that this raw, obscene expression it has on right now is what people describe as paradise. His own personal heaven.

“C’mon, just get on with it,” the lips under Max’ thumb pad suddenly move. His eyes flutter, the corner of his mouth jumping upwards. “You’re being too gentle, you’re not gonna break me.”

Charles is eager in his desire, the bulge in his trousers now more than prominent, it’s fucking screaming for attention. Max gives him a nod and the next second his hands fly up to clasp at Max’ jeans, pulling them down together with his underwear just enough to free the swollen cock; the muscles in Max’ lower body tense as Charles’ long fingers wrap around the shaft of his dick, the Monégasque’s eyes glued to his very own, the eye contact almost unbearable for the both of them but they do maintain it somehow, they have to. His hand slides up and down, up and down again and again, slowly adding pressure to the swollen flesh, never breaking eye contact; testing Max, watching him as he struggles to keep his eyes open and his gaze focused.

“You want my mouth?” Charles mocks him, quirking an eyebrow.

“I want all of you.”

Another gasp and Charles kneads his cock yet again, runs a thumb over the wet crown. There’s a fat drop of precum gathering on the tip, and he looks down at it only to watch it grow thicker and thicker before it falls down with a string, leaving a wet spot on the wooden floor. Max’ cock is thick and veiny in his hand, throbbing beneath his palm as he adds even more pressure.

“Can’t wait to feel you inside me,” slips off Charles’ lips just before he sticks his tongue out and licks at the reddened tip, circling it afterwards, the sound of Max inhaling sharply a perfect melody to his ears. He plays around with him, jerks him off with rapid pulls, slides his tongue on the hot tip, tasting the saltiness of Max’ precum; he’s teasing and he knows it, purposely makes Max wait and crave only to get him even more riled up, to make sure he’s starving by the time they’ve come up to the main course. Max tries to guide him by clenching a fist in his hair, keeping his head in place, and Charles’ mouth falls open, his tongue stuck out and even with his face exposed like that, his gaze foggy and dazed and this thick blush on his cheeks and his hair disheveled and sweaty he’s still the most beautiful creature Max has ever seen and as much as Charles can’t wait to embrace him fully Max can’t wait to take him as he is, claim his whole being.

“Yeah?” he breathes out just to make sure because he really doesn’t want to mess it up in any possible way, and there’s a smirk and a nod from Charles and he takes his own length in his hand and places the leaking tip in Charles’ flat tongue and thrusts into his mouth, the tip hitting the back of Charles’ throat, eliciting a gagging sound from him. Max’ eyes roll and his whole body goes weak for a second. “Shit, baby, yes.”, he whispers without realising and his hold on Charles’ hair is so firm at this point that it actually starts to hurt. And yet Charles ignores it, forces his jaw to go slack; his mind focusing on one single thing, that one thing being the cock in his mouth. The way it feels, the way Max feels on his tongue, thrusting slowly into his mouth, using him to please himself. A sole thought about how good he makes Max feel right now rushes through his body like a heatwave, making his hands clench into fists and his cock throb in his pants. He keeps sucking and Max keeps snapping his hips forward, again and again and again before he digs his fingers into Charles’ scalp and halts, Charles taking a deep breath in once the wet cock has blurred out of his mouth. The fog keeps thickening in front of his eyes, his chest heaving violently; there’s saliva smudged all over his mouth, a drop falling down his chin with a thin string before he manages to wipe it away with the back of his hand.

“Fuck, the things you do to me, I’m so close already,” Max laughs and caresses Charles’ cheek with his fingers.

“Come on my face,” Charles blurts out, making Max freeze for a solid second. _Shit_. They’ve never done this before. He never lets Max do this, the thought of sperm dripping down his face like in all these obnoxious porn films he’s seen freaking him out every time. But now, now he feels like he desperately needs it, he desires it sincerely and more than anything else.

“You sure?”

“Yes,” Charles adds a few more nods to his reply, “Please. I want this.”

Max looks takes aback for sure, his mouth open and the tip of his tongue peeking through his teeth but there’s a smirk touching his features, his face beaming with poorly hidden excitement. He gives himself a couple of pulls before pressing the tip of his cock into Charles’ tongue, the Monégasque taking it in hungrily, the pink ring of his lips sliding up and down the wet shaft. Max’ breathing grows more and more hectic, his cock throbbing inside Charles’ mouth a couple of times and then Max is pulling at Charles’ hair with one hand and jerking himself off with another, hissing out swear words as he looks down on the blissful expression on Charles’ face.

“Fuck,” Max groans at the sight, Charles’ tongue laying flat, waiting to take his load; his cheeks pink, almost red with the blush; his hair a sweaty messy crown on his head. And his eyes, not only open but staring back at Max with so much intensity, so much uncontrolled passion and desire that the gaze only turns out to be enough to push Max over the edge, his eyes squeezing shut unlike his mouth falling open, a throaty moan escaping from the depths of his body as hot sperm splashes all over Charles’ face, stripes of thick white liquid laying across his nose and cheeks, but mostly pooled on his pink tongue. He takes it all, sucks Max off to make sure he’s not omitted a single drop, and only then he lets his body relax, holds himself upwards awkwardly on his arms. His eyes are glued to Max’ wrecked face as he runs his tongue over his lips to collect what he can reach with it, swallowing every single drop of Max’ semen.

They both laugh softly when Max finally manages to open his eyes, feeling like two schoolboys skipping class to do something way more entertaining than algebra. With the help of his boyfriend’s strong arms Charles manages to get back up onto his feet, and he’s met with yet another open-mouthed kiss initiated by Max, yet another grab of hands, yet another moan disintegrating in his throat. He feels pliable, but not vulnerable beneath the firm hold of Max’ hands as they slide down and knead his thighs.

“Get on the table,” Max husks, helping him jump up a bit awkwardly and sit on the edge of the wooden table on which Max usually savours fancy dinners with his family and his manager. Right now, there’s no rich dishes on it; its only him, sweaty and aroused and humiliated in his favorite way ever; Max stands in between his legs, his fingernails scratching on Charles’ sides, his teeth clasping on Charles’ lower lip and tongue. Max is so intensely embracing, so passionately caring; his open mouth leaves wet trails all over Charles’ neck, moving down to his chest, tongue circling the hard nipples before proceeding even lower and lower until his teeth rasp over the wet fabric of Charles’ underwear.

“Lay down,” the command very much sounds like a recommendation, yet Charles cares to follow and lowers himself on the table, thighs now on Max’ shoulder, a hot mouth all over his crotch. He’s pretty sure he knows what’s about to follow and the anticipation is boiling in his veins; he closes his eyes, making sure he focuses his fuzzy mind on the head between his legs. His underwear gets pulled down and there he is, exposed to his greatest rival; to his lover, who trails his mouth down his lower abdomen and leaves hot kisses all over his naked body. Max’ touch is featherlight, so careful its almost annoying now.

“You won’t break me.”

“Shh,” hot air splashes all over Charles’ inner thigh, “Relax. Let me make you feel good.”

There are fingers ghosting over Charles’ skin as he forces himself to do what he’s been told - _relax. Let your muscles go weak. Trust me. I won’t hurt you. Fuck, in fact, I’m so afraid of ever hurting you, in any possible way._

He lets the air out of his lungs, his eyes roll beneath his eyelids. He focuses on the touch in his crotch, on the fingers wrapping around his swollen dick. On the mouth sucking on his balls, the tongue adding pressure to his taint. The cold thick liquid on his hole and the pads pressing into it, warming the lube. He really doesn’t care where Max managed to find the lube now, really doesn’t care why Max stores it somewhere in his dining room. The pressure grows more and more intense and he needs to make efforts now to stay as relaxed as possible, even when one finger slides inside of him, even when it fills him knuckles deep.

“That’s it,” Max whispers and his lips brush over the inside of Charles’ thigh. “You’re doing so good.”

The fingers blur in and out of him easily, his body willingly not only giving in but welcoming them. He feels like he’s floating; it’s so different from what he’s felt just a few minutes ago, so different from the burning fire in his insides. He’s almost sleepy, his mind is all foggy and fuzzy still with his arousement but this time it’s painted peachy and lilac instead of eerie black and maroon. The second finger slips in without notice, the sensations growing more and more intense every second as Max' pushes bring him closer and closer to his sweet release. Max’ mouth is everywhere, Charles’ skin feels sticky from his saliva and the lube dripping down his buttocks. And as he leaves yet another kiss on Charles’ knee, Max speaks through the fog.

“I really can’t wait to fuck you.”

And it draws a smug smile on Charles’ lips.

“Then do it.”

The fingers come to a halt before slipping out completely. Charles’ eyes open and he’s all drowsy all of a sudden when Max helps him slide off the table, his knees suddenly weak. Or is it about the ground being so soft?

“Go to the bathroom,” Max whispers in his ear. “I’ll join you soon.”

Charles nods in a haze and wanders through Max’ apartment into the spacious bathroom, not really seeing anything that encounters him, not really hearing anything. Suddenly his world has come down to his body, its like he can feel everything, every bloodstream, every breath he takes. The wetness in between his buttocks. He smells of Max, its feels like he’s made of Max, too.

He stalls in front of the sink, stares at the reflection in the mirror as Max appears from behind his back, fully undressed, eyes dark, hair disheveled, lips red and swollen. Two arms wrap around Charles’ body, a hot sweaty chest presses into his back. Charles looks at them in the mirror and this feels unreal, they both look unreal, too heaven-like to actually be living human beings. They look exactly the same yet they’re two different people; in fact, there's a striking contrast between the two of them.

“What are you thinking?” Max murmurs as he kisses his neck, his fingers wrapping around his neck ever so slightly.

“That I love you,” Charles whispers and watches Max’ face go soft, his lips pressing into Charles’ neck once more. He then nudges his cheek with his forehead, smiling tenderly.

“Baby, I love you too,” he says and his voice is so quiet and solemn almost, like its an oath he’s swearing right now. “You have no idea how much. Now… shall we fuck?”

It pulls a laugh out of Charles and he nods at Max’ reflection in the mirror and receives yet another kiss on the cheek before Max somewhat parts from him to slide a hand in between their naked bodies. His kisses frame each one of the round bones in Charles’ spine, his hand positions his newly hard dick on Charles’ ass, the tip pressing into the wet hole. The Monégasque takes a deep breath in, the excitement and anticipation taking over him at last as his mouth falls open, choked out sob escaping his throat; he closes his eyes and his head lolls as the tight ring of muscles gets stretched out so perfectly well by the girth of Max’ cock. Max’ head gently leans forward on Charles, his face getting buried in the slope of his neck and shoulder, a gasp falling off his plump lips as he slides fully into Charles, his crotch pressed into Charles’ rear, their bodies connected in the most tender way. Their breathings have synchronised, just as their heartbeats. Max cradles his torso with both his arms, rolls his hips gently, thrusting into Charles’ embracing heat for the first time. A sharp sob that leaves Charles’ throat inspires him even more, he digs his fingers into the fleshy chest, snaps his hips forward again, rougher this time.

“There,” he mumbles when he kneads Charles’ thigh with his one hand, repositioning it so that Charles is bent over the sink and one of his legs finds support on the dryer next to the sink. The angle shifts and Max’ cock now not only goes deeper, it also manages to slide on that sweet spot inside of Charles; all the intensity of the sensations make Charles cry out. “Yeah, that’s better.”

Max’ hands roam all over Charles’ strong body, squeezing and biting and scratching and oh most certainly leaving _bruises_ , and it’s so overwhelming to be surrounded by him. It feels like with every single thrust he makes he pushes the human mind out of Charles, leaving him torn apart by the sheer animal instinct that screams “Max, Max, Max” inside his skull. _Max. Fuck. Fuck, he’s everywhere._

“Look,” he says. “Look at yourself.”

And Charles somehow manages to open his eyes and actually look, and the sight he encounters is intoxicating. Max’ fingertips went white from how hard he’s digging them into the meaty flesh of Charles’ hips; both of their bodies move in unison to the rhythm of Max’ thrusts; there’s moisture dripping down the steamy mirror already. They both look completely wrecked, each in his own beautiful way. He can see Max’ slim hips meet his own time after time, he can see the way his very own spine arches underneath the touch when Max lays a palm on it. He can see the sweat coming down Max’ chest. He can see everything. He can feel everything. And this is just too much to handle.

“Holy shit,” he whimpers as he drops his head, Max literally fucking the air out of his lungs now with a rough swing to his pumping hips. The teeth digging into his lower lip have finally tore the thin skin apart, the metallic taste of blood rushing into his mouth in a violent wave. At this point he’s pretty sure he’s gone crazy. At this point he’s pretty sure nothing in his life really ever mattered but this particular moment, this particular person. He’s so lost in the sensation of Max’ heavy cock sliding in and out of his body, of Max’ firm figure hitting his very own. His skull is filled with moans and the smell of Max’ skin and the slaps with which Max’ balls meet his ass every time he buries himself inside Charles. A quick repositioning - now Max is grabbing him by his hip with his left hand and by his shoulder with another one, and the angle shifts again, and this time Charles physically cannot hold back a high-pitched, punched out scream.

“Oh God yes, right there, right there!” he babbles, his wet foot sliding off the dryer. Max’ teeth scrape Charles’ neck with a deep grunt, he pushes himself into Charles using his whole body now, fingers tearing the muscles in Charles’ shoulder apart. Whines and moans spill out of Charles uncontrollably now, all kinds of obscene sounds filling the bathroom and echoing off the walls and God, he really hopes the walls are thick here. He tries to clutch at something, anything, but it’s all marble and mirrors, it’s all sharp edges that leave _bruises_ all over his body. He scratches his fingernails on the plane surface of the sink before he feels someone else’s sweaty palm cover and intertwine them. Max squeezes their hands together, threatening to break every single bone in his palm and his fingers, and buries his face in the crook of Charles’ neck in an open mouthed sigh.

“Does this feel good? Tell me,” a painful bite, Charles choking out another sob, “Tell me how good this feels.”

“Ma-ax,” Charles cries out, “Max, pl- please, -ah!”

Max growls a low groan and pounds himself in and out Charles, making his hip bones scratch on the sharp edge of the sink, really fucking into him with full force now and-

“Oh my- ahh fuck!”

-this feels so good it’s physically painful, and Charles’ eyes lose focus and tip further back into his skull and his whole body tenses and shakes, all muscles clenching at once and his mouth falls open in a rumbling groan that resolves into a shaky high-pitched sigh. A heatwave rushes through his body as he comes, and just when he’s about to fall down from his peak and die from all the wounds his dick throbs and he spills all over the sink, long white stripes across the white marble. He’s shaking so violently his leg falls off the damned dryer and his knees suddenly give in, but Max is holding him still by hugging him with both arms, his hips pressed firmly into Charles’.

“Max, Max, Max,” all around, sobs and whines and all the ah’s and fuck’s coming out of Charles in a stream, his eyes squeezed shut and his nape lying in Max’ shoulder. His chest is heaving rapidly, his heart pounding beneath the ribcage; he feels completely wrecked and looks the same exact way, embraced in Max’ arms. His throat twitches with a swallow and then he’s mumbling, “take it off.”

“What?”

“The condom. Take it off.” he licks his lips, his eyes flutter. “Take the condom off, I want to feel you coming inside of me.”

He’s met by Max’ gaze when he opens his half-lidded eyes to look in the mirror again. There’s sperm drops on it as well, he notices.

“Are you sure?” Max quirks an eyebrow and blinks the sweat off his eyelashes. Charles swallows thickly, turning around awkwardly wedged in between Max’ body and the sink. He looks into Max’ eyes.

“I am sure,” he husks and his hands reach out to Max’ crotch. A ring of his fingers forms around Max’ shaft and he rolls the condom off hastily until it’s in his hand and he throws it away carelessly, licking his lips. Salt mixed with raw metal. Charles’ body still feels weary and sleepy and his mind is slowly winding down, but he knows it’s not over yet and he forces himself to jump up to sit on the edge of the sink, Max’ palms supporting him under his sticky thighs. Max catches his mouth in a messy kiss and presses their crotches together, Max’ hard, swollen length meeting Charles’ softening dick.

“Fuck me, baby, c’mon,” Charles grins into the kiss. “I know you want it.”

Max doesn’t need to be told twice; he gives himself a couple of messy pulls which make his whole body shudder and another breathy curse fall off his lips and lines himself up at Charles’ stretched entrance. He muffles the moan Charles lets out with his own mouth, his tongue softly licking over Charles’ as he snaps his hips forward, the heat of Charles’ pliant body taking him in fully at once. They both are left breathless for another second or two, their limbs intertwined; Charles crosses his ankles on Max’ lower back to pull him even closer with every new thrust. He drops his head backwards then, his nape hitting the solid mirror with a thud, yet his arms are still cradling Max’ broad shoulders. Max bites down on his lower lip, struggling to hold back the moans and growls and screams while Charles looks at him with such an awed expression on his drowsy face, caresses his shoulders with his fingers.

“Harder, Max,” he breathes out as he pulls himself closer to Max, pressing his mouth to his earlobe. “I can feel how close you are. C’mon, baby, come inside me.”

He holds Max as his body seizes, the muscles underneath Charles’ palms clenching violently. He holds him as Max buries his face in the crook of Charles’ neck, feeling his wet mouth fall open in a silent scream. He holds him as Max’ fingers dig into the flesh of his hips, surely leaving marks, _bruises_ all over him. And he closes his eyes in haze and he cannot hold back a fond smile at the sensation of Max spilling inside him; he’s not sure what’s so amazing about it, but then again right now he’s not sure about anything but one thing - they really need to do it more often.

Shortly after, Max’ head lolls on Charles’ shoulder, whimpers and sobs coming out of him sharply with every new exhale. All of a sudden he feels so tired and weak and he just lets Charles hold him until he regains at least some strength to push himself off Charles’ own exhausted figure.

Charles groans at the odd sensation of Max’ warm cock slipping out of him, leaving him empty, and dripping come down his buttocks.

“Fuck, you’re a mess.”

A soft chuckle escapes Charles’ lips.

“Thanks.” he’s not sure whether it’s ‘thanks for the compliment’ or ‘thanks for making me such a mess’, but he lowkey means both. Max reaches out to grab a towel hanging right next to the sink and wipes the liquids off Charles’ body, then throws the dirty towel in the laundry pile next to the dryer.

He looks into Charles’ sleepy eyes again, but now there’s not a hint of a fire in his pupils; now they’re both just so drowsy and exhausted and oh so in love it feels completely surreal. He cups Charles’ face with his sweaty hand, smiling softly at him.

“I really don’t want to let you go now.”

“Don’t.” Charles whispers, returning the smile. “Let me go tomorrow morning.”

“You know what I mean,” Max exhales, closing his eyes.

“Yeah,” Charles lets his forehead meet Max’ softly. “One day we won’t have to do this. We’ll live together in some tiny villa so far away from everyone they won’t ever be able to find us. Just you and me.”

Max chuckles at the innocent tone with which Charles is speaking. He’s always been like this, so pure and naive; Max admires him with so much honesty.

“You and me,” he echoes and nods lightly. “Yeah, I’d love that.”

**Author's Note:**

> check out my [tumblr](http://itsmaxver.tumblr.com)!! and please PLEASE leave kudos and comments!! x


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